System Error
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: 1987 series, my Exit the Fly verse. Krang schemes to unleash monsters through every computerized device in the city, especially Barney's beloved laptop. But since that laptop houses the alien computer, Krang's plan badly backfires when said alien computer malfunctions.


**Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 1987**

 **System Error**

 **By Lucky_Ladybug**

 **Notes: The characters are not mine and the story is! ThickerThanLove came up with the suggestion that was slightly modified into the title. This is part of my** _ **Exit the Fly**_ **verse. Baxter is human and an ally of the Turtles. His brother Barney no longer works for Shredder.**

Krang's eyes gleamed as he finished typing a series of commands into his computer. "There," he warbled. "It's finished."

"So what's this big project of yours, Krang?" Shredder demanded. "You've been working on this ever since we found out Barney Stockman is alive."

Krang moved back from the keyboard and smirked up at him. "Tell me, Shredder, what is one of humanity's greatest weaknesses today?"

Shredder blinked. "Is this a trick question?"

"I'm quite serious," Krang retorted.

"Well . . . their love of material things," Shredder decided.

"Yes. But not _just_ material things; their love of technology!" Krang smiled wide. "Everyone has a computer or a phone or a tablet that they're on all day long. What do you think would happen if all of their technology suddenly went haywire?"

Now Shredder looked delighted. "There would be utter chaos and we could slip in and take over the city!"

"Exactly." Krang pointed at the screen. "This is a special type of digital monster found only in Dimension X. Everyone lives in fear of them getting into the computer systems. I have just replicated the creature, but altered its genetic makeup so that I can control where it goes. It won't affect any of our computers on the Technodrome, but I can send them to the surface to infect every computer, phone, and tablet in New York City!"

"That's brilliant!" Shredder exclaimed.

"I know," Krang giggled. "And guess who will be right in the thick of things?"

"The Turtles!" Shredder growled. "Will it affect their Turtle-Comms?"

"It should if I deliberately input that command into the monsters' systems," Krang said. "But even more importantly, it will affect Barney's laptop. That device has been inseparable from him ever since he built it. We couldn't find it in his laboratory after he blew up the lightning gun. He loved it so much, he apparently took it where we couldn't find it."

"Then we spotted it with Baxter during the footage of Barney's funeral," Shredder remembered.

"And now Barney no doubt has it back again." Krang leaned back and smirked. "What better way to get revenge on Barney than by wreaking havoc on its system?"

"I like it," Shredder mused.

"Best of all, our revenge just happens naturally during the course of our conquer the world plot," Krang said, "instead of wasting time just focusing on the revenge by itself. It's so much cleaner and more logical this way."

"You probably have a point," Shredder said. "Alright, we'll try it. When are you going to unleash your monsters on the city?"

"As soon as possible," Krang answered. "Why wait with a bad thing?"

xxxx

Baxter stirred, burrowing deeper into the pillow before more fully waking up and rolling onto his back. He stared at the high ceiling above him in sleepy amazement. He was in Barney's house . . . a place he had only rarely been, and never before overnight. He smiled, sleepily reaching for his glasses.

It had been a pleasant night. After dinner they had driven over in Baxter's station wagon. Barney's house ran almost entirely on electronics and he had tapped out the code to let them in the front gate and then the front door. A layer of dust covered almost everything, to Barney's irritation. Most of the fixing up would probably involve dusting.

All the rooms were furnished, even though Barney had only ever used scant few of the bedrooms. He and Baxter had each taken one and Vincent, still using an energy-generated body courtesy of a solid energy generator Barney had built, had taken a third. As a living computer, he tended to sleep while the laptop recharged for the day.

Baxter sat up and threw the comforter back. He had thought to bring some food from his apartment for breakfast. They would have to go shopping today; Barney had absolutely nothing else edible in the house. They were lucky that Barney hadn't left anything to rot in the fridge while he had been on the Technodrome, Baxter wryly thought to himself. He had taken to eating out or ordering in after his release from prison. And then it hadn't been long after that when he had found Shredder.

Baxter wandered into the hallway. Vincent was awake and had wandered to the door of his room as well. "Hi, Baxter, old pal," he greeted.

"Hello," Baxter smiled. It was interesting how it was both strange and yet right to see Vincent able to move about on his own.

"Barney is still asleep," Vincent said. "I was going to explore. Do you want to come?"

"Well . . ." Baxter hesitated. "You'll be living here, but I'm just a guest. I think I'd feel a little strange to wander all over my brother's house without his knowledge. Anyway, I should fix breakfast." He glanced at the clock. "I might end up late for work."

"That's true," Vincent mused. "But I don't think Barney would mind if you explored. You offered to help fix up the house, after all."

Baxter smiled a bit. "Maybe later. I'd kind of like for Barney to give me a tour." He headed for the stairs.

After a moment he heard Vincent follow him. "Maybe I'll wait for a tour too," he said. "There might be some things Barney really wanted to show us himself." He looked around with enthusiasm. "This really is an incredible house."

"It is," Baxter agreed. "I was always very impressed with what Barney managed to do with it." He reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to head for the kitchen.

"The only thing is, there are no pictures anywhere," Vincent remarked. "Even you have a couple."

Baxter nodded. He had one photograph of himself with the Turtles and Splinter and another where he was with April, Irma, and Vernon. But Barney's walls were bare, except where it came to the occasional piece of artwork he liked.

"Barney was so unhappy he never wanted family photographs to remind him of it even more," Baxter explained. "For that matter, I don't have any pictures with my biological family either."

"But now that you and Barney are getting along, you will, won't you?" Vincent asked.

"I'd like that," Baxter agreed. "Maybe I'll ask Barney about it. Or you can. He opens up much more to you."

Vincent settled at the island in the middle of the large kitchen to watch Baxter work. "I'm happy he does," he said. "But I hope someday he'll feel comfortable opening up to you as well."

"So do I," Baxter admitted. He hesitated. "I can understand if he doesn't want to, though. . . . I wasn't comfortable even telling him about my sugar cravings."

"You're not comfortable opening up because of how he hurt you in the past. He's not comfortable opening up because of the same reason," Vincent said. "He feels that he has no right to open up to you now. Maybe if you could both talk about that, it would help."

"Maybe," Baxter said. He got out the ingredients and started making a batch of pancakes. "I'm glad to know that, Vincent. . . . But I'm not sure how much talking would change things long-term, or if it would even be possible at all. Barney is just an aloof person in general. I can't imagine him wanting to open up to me."

"He isn't so aloof with me," Vincent said.

Baxter smiled. "It's easy to open up to you. Anyway, it's often said that people find it easier to open up to those they're not related to."

"That's strange, isn't it?" Vincent said. "I've found it's the case with many alien species as well."

Baxter shrugged. "I think it's because it's so much less awkward bearing your soul to someone you don't know. If they reject you, what does it matter? But the thought of your family rejecting you is absolutely terrifying."

"But Barney knows me now," Vincent said.

"And he knows you haven't rejected him," Baxter said. "So he continues to feel comfortable with you."

"He knows you won't reject him either," Vincent said.

"Maybe," Baxter relented. "You certainly know him better than I do. Most of my memories of him are still the aloof, angry boy and man whom I was so intimidated by." He sighed. "And maybe I'm trying to figure out Barney based on how _I_ am. . . . Feeling terrified of rejection, that is. I just feel like I _can't_ be hurt by him anymore. That if it happens again I might break. I want to believe it won't happen, but logically I know it will, even if he doesn't mean it. It's . . . hard to erase years of feeling like he thought I was lower than dirt."

"I understand," Vincent said. ". . . And I think to some extent, no matter how illogical it is, Barney is afraid of rejection too. He knows you haven't ever rejected him and he finds that absolutely impossible and incredible. But he's afraid that if he lets all of his soul be visible, it will be too much for even you. He doesn't want to hurt you anymore, either. He hates himself so very much. He can't comprehend how anyone else could feel differently."

"I know," Baxter said quietly. "I wish I knew how to help him. . . ."

"You've helped him so much, Baxter," Vincent said. "I know you'll continue to. Maybe someday he won't hate himself as much as he does, but I think that will only happen if he can come to fully accept and like the person he is now."

"That makes sense. That's how it was for me. And even at that, I still feel sick about the things I did in the past." Baxter paused, staring at the pancake he was flipping on the stove. "It's hard to imagine Barney being afraid or terrified of anything. He was always the strong one to me, the immovable one, the one I wished I could be."

"I imagine everyone is afraid sometimes," Vincent said. "I'm sure he was terrified when that building was coming down around him."

Baxter shuddered. "I'm sure you're right."

Outside in the living room, Barney just listened and shook his head in disbelief. "Why would you ever aspire to be like me, Baxter?" he whispered. "I have never been a worthy role-model. You know that better than anyone."

Vincent turned and walked to the doorway. "Baxter always saw the good in you, Barney. Even when you were hurting him."

Barney stared at him, then scowled. "I can't say anything without you hearing me, can I."

Vincent smirked. "I can hear _anything_ if I'm in range."

"I'll have to remember that." Barney entered the kitchen, looking awkward. "Baxter, I . . . Vincent's right. I don't want to hurt you again. I know with my personality, there's no way it won't happen. Even people who don't have problems hurt each other sometimes. The only thing I can promise is that I have no intention of deliberately hurting you anymore. If . . . _when_ it happens, it will be an accident. And I hope under the circumstances, that won't cause you to break."

"I didn't mean for you to hear me say that," Baxter said in chagrin. "But it means so much to me for you to tell me that." He took the finished pancakes away from the stove and over to the island.

Barney came over and sat on one of the stools. Vincent sat next to him, looking at him silently and then at the food. Barney flushed. ". . . You . . . remembered," he said with awkward sincerity.

"You always loved pancakes," Baxter chuckled.

". . . Thank you." Barney took several with his fork.

Vincent smiled. It was progress.

xxxx

It was a normal day at the Lair. The Turtles had finished their morning practice and also breakfast. Donatello was settling into the lab, while Michelangelo was starting a video game. Leonardo was reading a book and Raphael was watching television. Splinter was meditating.

It was Michelangelo's yelp moments later that broke the harmony. "What the heck?! There's little monsters coming out of my game!"

Raphael looked over, his expression blank and unimpressed. "Nice try, Michelangelo. If you're really seeing that, it sounds like you've been playing that game too long again." But then he saw the strange brown creatures too. "YIKES!"

"Oh, like, now you believe me," Michelangelo snapped.

"Something's happening to my computer!" Donatello cried from the lab.

"Creatures are coming out of my Turtle-Comm!" Leonardo said in horror.

"Okay, what?" Raphael frowned. "The only thing they're not coming out of is the TV!"

Splinter came to the doorway. "What is the meaning of this, my students?!"

"I wish we knew, Master!" Leonardo exclaimed. "They're everywhere!"

Donatello tried to hit one with his bo. "And we can't fight them!" he exclaimed. "It's like they're digitized!"

"Like, maybe they are," Michelangelo said. "How else could they come out of electronic stuff?"

"Is anything else happening to your equipment now that they have come through?" Splinter asked.

"Yes, Sensei." Leonardo tapped the Turtle-Comm's screen. "Now I'm just getting static."

"My video game's playing itself!" Michelangelo declared.

"My computer is running through every program in its system!" Donatello moaned.

"So why isn't the TV affected?!" Raphael retorted.

"Hmm." Donatello looked thoughtful. "I wonder if the only things affected are devices that are connected with other devices. The computer and Michelangelo's handheld video game both use the Internet."

"But our Turtle-Comms don't," Michelangelo pointed out.

"Well, they connect with each other," Leonardo mused. "Maybe the monsters affect connected devices with screens?"

The telephone rang. Surprised, Donatello hurried over to answer it. "Hello?"

"Donatello, what's going on?!" April burst out. "I can't reach any of you on your Turtle-Comms! And little monsters came out of mine and Dr. Stockman's!"

"And every computer in the building!" Burne roared in the background. "What am I going to do?! Nothing's working! We won't be able to stay ahead of the other networks!"

"Maybe the other networks are having the same problem," Irma suggested.

"This is awful!" Vernon wailed. "I'm going to have nightmares about this for weeks!"

Donatello frowned. "This sounds a lot like a Shredder and Krang scheme," he said. "Maybe it's happening all over town. It looks like anything the monsters come out of breaks down."

"And like, the creatures disappear right after they do!" Michelangelo added.

"Oh no," Baxter gasped. "If this is happening all over town, I wonder if Vincent might be affected too."

"Vincent?" Donatello blinked. "Uh oh. You know, if he goes crazy, there's no telling what might happen."

"Won't he just, like, stop working, like all the other computers?" Michelangelo said.

"Maybe," Donatello said. "But nothing is actually grinding to a halt. My computer is still running. It's just gone berserk. And since Vincent is alive, the effect could be even worse on him."

"What are we going to do?!" April cried.

"Somebody had better find Vincent," Donatello said.

"He's at Barney's house," Baxter said. "I'm going to try calling over there right now."

"Let us know what's happening," Donatello said. "We'll come out in the Turtle Van and see if people all over the city are having the same problem." He hung up.

"Mondo disaster, Dudes," Michelangelo said in concern. "How are we gonna fix this?!"

"First I'll have to figure out what damage was caused," Donatello said. "And now I'm worried that the computer in the Turtle Van might have been affected too." He hurried towards the garage.

"Be careful, my Turtles," Splinter said as the others moved to follow. "People rely so heavily on technology these days. If this is a scheme of Shredder and Krang's, it is very devious and potentially dangerous. Who knows what may go wrong if every computer and other communication device in the city malfunctions."

"I know one thing that's gonna go wrong," Michelangelo said. "The whole city is gonna grind to a standstill!"

"I fear it will be far worse than that," Splinter replied.

xxxx

Barney sighed to himself as he wandered through the mansion's rooms with Vincent in tow. Some of them would definitely need more work than others. He had furnished them all, wanting to look respectable and powerful, but he had only been disappointed time and again when he had been rejected by those who had thought he was Baxter.

"My favorite room aside from the laboratory is probably the library," he said as he pushed open another door.

Vincent suddenly gasped in pain. Barney whirled, stunned and confused, and found Vincent on his knees, staring as bizarre, micro-sized creatures emerged from the laptop screen and jumped to the floor before disappearing.

"What's going on?!" Barney cried in shock. "What are these things?!"

"I . . . I don't know," Vincent stammered. "They look like digital monsters everyone fears in Dimension X. They . . . wreak havoc with . . . Barney, help! . . ." He looked up at Barney, his blue eyes filled with pleading and fear.

"What can I do?!" Barney exclaimed. "Just tell me how to help you and I will!" He started to kneel down in front of his friend, but the cold look in Vincent's eyes stopped him short. He had never seen Vincent look at him like that. . . .

"Nevermind, pathetic human," Vincent sneered, rising to his feet. "Stay on your knees and bow before me. I am going to take control of this house and then the city. In fact, why stop there? The entire world will belong to me!"

Barney stared up at him. "Digital monsters," he whispered. "Dimension X. . . ." His eyes darkened with fury. "This is Krang's doing!"

"Oh yes," Vincent purred. "When those creatures passed through my circuitry, I picked up on their instructions. Krang sent them here deliberately, just to get at you through me. Well, through this laptop that houses me. Krang doesn't know I'm here." He laughed. "Isn't it ironic? He and Shredder once tried to get hold of me. Now they've damaged me and they don't even know it!"

Barney stumbled to his feet. "Krang did this on purpose?" He clenched his fists. " _This_ was how he decided to take his revenge! He didn't come after me at all! He came after something that he knew I hold dear!" He trembled in anger. In attacking the laptop, Krang had also harmed the motherboard. And what if . . . what if Barney couldn't repair the damage? No, he had to believe he could!

Vincent reached out, grabbing Barney by his sweater vest. "This is the end of the line for you, Buddy Boy. If you won't serve me as you should, I'll just have to see to it that you move along."

"No. . . ." Barney took hold of Vincent's energy-generated wrist. "This isn't you talking, Vincent. You would never want to hurt me!"

He had to marvel at his insistence. He had only known Vincent for several months. How could he be so sure of the alien computer's loyalty? He knew that Vincent liked the idea of computers ruling the world. Maybe the digital monsters had only brought out what was already there.

And yet . . . yet he knew that wasn't true. Vincent _was_ loyal. Vincent was his only friend. Vincent had gone from hating him and encouraging Baxter to take revenge on him to adoring him as he did Baxter. No matter how Vincent felt about the idea of computers ruling the world, he would never turn against Barney or Baxter. Not if he could help it.

Indeed, Vincent's eyes flickered and he let go of Barney in alarm. "Get away from me!" he cried.

Barney drew a shaking breath as he reached to smooth his vest. "Vincent, I can't help you if I don't have access to the laptop!" he protested. "It could take hours to repair what Krang's monsters have done!"

"I . . . I don't trust myself that long," Vincent retorted. He ran into the hall. "Barney, I can't keep control of myself! Don't come near me! Get out of this house!"

Barney stared after him. "I'm not going to abandon you!" he screamed.

Vincent responded by running up the stairs. His footsteps faded at the top. Moments later, after perhaps climbing another staircase to the third floor, he apparently went into a room. A door slammed.

Barney ran to the stairs leading to the second floor and craned his neck upward. "He must have gone into the control room on the third floor," he frowned to himself. "But that means . . ."

Several doors flew open. It looked like every electronic kitchen or cleaning machine was charging at him, led by the vacuum cleaner. He dashed up the stairs in terror. "Vincent, stop it!" he yelled. "You have to fight this!"

But a chill crept up his spine. Vincent was no doubt trying as hard as he could, but with his circuitry damaged he would probably kept flipping back and forth between these personalities. Barney likely really wasn't safe in the house. And with his appliances chasing him, he couldn't even go back downstairs and out the front door.

"Vincent, I know you can hear me," he said.

"Of course I can," Vincent said boredly. "But your words mean nothing to me. I'm going to rule this entire pathetic planet."

"Even if that means hurting me or Baxter?" Barney retorted.

"There's no need for either of you to be hurt," Vincent said. "Just don't get in my way and everything will be fine."

"We can't just stand by and let you do this!" Barney snapped. "Especially since we know it isn't what you would do in your right mind! It's true that you wanted this once. But now you just want to be happy with us!"

There he was again, insisting he knew Vincent's mind. He felt closer to a computer than he did to his own brother. Something was wrong with that somewhere. But . . . he never had been normal. He had bonded with Vincent as he had never bonded with anyone else in his entire life. Vincent had made his life better and kept him sane in his darkest moments. He would never stop fighting for Vincent now.

"Sorry, Buddy Boy. I have, as you Earthlings say, bigger fish to fry."

Barney ducked under one of the security cameras so he couldn't be seen. "I know this house and you don't," he whispered. "Don't count humans out yet."

xxxx

"Have you figured out what's wrong yet, Donatello?" Michelangelo asked. The Turtle Van computer had indeed been affected by the bizarre digital monsters. Donatello had been trying to fix it on the drive into Midtown.

"There's a whole bunch of things wrong!" Donatello said in distress. "And it could take hours or even days to fix! I might be able to hook up something to remotely reverse the damage on every computer in town, but that's a big If. And worse, I'm not sure that would work on Vincent."

"Oh yeah? Why not?" Michelangelo warily asked.

"Vincent's an alien computer," Donatello reminded. "His circuitry is probably different from anything we're familiar with."

"But right now he's inside an Earth computer," Michelangelo shot back. "Shouldn't that make a difference?"

"Maybe. The problem is, the motherboards are often hit," Donatello frowned. "Or at least, this one sure has been. If that happened to Vincent, I think the only way to fix it would be in person . . . so to speak."

The telephone in the Van rang and Raphael snapped it up. "Hello?!"

"Raphael, I can't reach anyone at my brother's house!" Baxter cried. "I have to get over there!"

"Is Burne going to let you leave?" Raphael asked.

"We can't accomplish much with all the computers down," Baxter said. "But even if Mr. Thompson wasn't about to allow it, I would insist on leaving anyway."

Raphael glanced out the window. "We'll swing by and pick you up," he said.

"Really?" Baxter sounded both surprised and moved.

"Okay, I'll admit I still don't like Vincent or your brother, but you love them, so . . ." Raphael looked uncomfortable. "Anyway, Michelangelo would never let us hear the end of it if we didn't come to help."

"You got that right, Dude," Michelangelo declared.

"We'll be there in five minutes," Leonardo called.

xxxx

Barney had been moving silently and stealthily through the house, going through secret passageways when he could and staying out of sight of the security cameras when he couldn't. Vincent couldn't see him and was growing frustrated. Every now and then, he spoke over the speaker system-but Barney could never predict which Vincent was going to speak. He was indeed wavering between his true nature, a twisted version of it, and the outright insane personality. The longer it went on, the more heartbroken Barney became and the angrier he got at Krang and Shredder.

 _I knew someone would be hurt if I tried to leave their employ!_ he silently fumed. _I didn't have any choice when I did it; I had to stop that lightning gun. But Baxter and Vincent already suffered for that. Now Krang is ensuring that Vincent has to suffer again. And if I can't stop him . . ._

He left that thought unfinished. He had to be able to stop Vincent and repair the damage. Failure was not acceptable. He was not going to lose his friend.

 _Strange,_ he thought. _I don't think I've ever fought so hard for one individual besides myself._

"Barney?" Vincent sounded like he was in pain. "Barney, please get out of here. I can't keep control of myself. I'm afraid I'll hurt you . . . or Baxter. . . . I couldn't live with myself if I did. . . ."

Barney wanted to respond, but he didn't dare. Then his location could be pinpointed. Instead he slipped into one last passage. It would come out in the control room. With any luck, he might be able to sneak up on Vincent and turn off the laptop. That wouldn't shut down Vincent; being alive, he was always "on," but it would hopefully break his control over everything in the house.

"Barney, don't try to stop me!" Vincent screamed in desperation. Then he groaned and went silent.

Barney cursed in his mind. He was almost to the door now. When he opened it, he doubted his Vincent would still be in control. Steeling himself, he pushed it open, slowly, noiselessly. . . .

And still Vincent turned to face him. "I told you I can hear _anything,_ " he said coolly. "Nice try, Buddy Boy, but no dice. You've failed." He stepped closer.

Barney held his ground. Maybe there was still a chance, if he could just get close enough. . . . "What are you going to do?" he asked.

Vincent snatched his wrists without warning, holding them together as he struggled. "I studied some of the unique features of this room while I was settling in, including _this._ " He remotely pressed a red button on the console and a trapdoor opened in the wall. He shoved Barney into it. "I'm sorry, Buddy Boy, but you have to go."

Barney yelped as he tumbled down the slide beyond the door. It was an ejection method he had installed in case he ever had to escape . . . or get rid of someone who had broken in. It was painless, but long and twisting and extremely frustrating.

He came out through the exit hatch in the brick gate and fell to his knees on the sidewalk outside the property. He slumped forward in despair and devastation.

"I failed," he whispered. "I can't get back in there by myself. I need help. . . ."

He looked back at the house. It was more like a fortress now. And now that Vincent apparently had complete control of it, what was he going to do next?

xxxx

Krang leaned back in his robot body, cackling with delight as he watched the day's chaos on the transdimensional screen. "Just look at all the silly humans running around, wondering what to do now that their computers or phones don't work!" he exclaimed to Shredder.

"I want to see what the Turtles are doing," Shredder retorted. "Or Barney."

"I haven't been able to get a fix on Barney," Krang said. "He's not at Baxter's apartment."

Without warning the screen's picture switched to an eerie blue face that smirked at them. "Oh, you want to know about Barney? I can tell you all about him."

"What?!" Krang yelped. "What is this?! What's going on?!"

"That face!" Shredder cried. "That's the supercomputer you wanted me to get from Channel 6!"

"That's impossible!" Krang shot back. "It was destroyed!"

"Was I?" The computer looked highly entertained. "Baxter later brought me to the Technodrome, where another explosion left me stuck there. Isn't that ironic? I was right under your noses all that time and you rejected me as trash."

Shredder leaned forward, spreading his hands on the console. "Are you on the Technodrome now?!"

"No. You see, someone else found me and didn't reject me."

Krang's eyes widened. "Oh no."

"That's right!" the computer said in delight. "You understand."

Shredder slammed his fists on the console. "Barney knew all along about that blasted computer!" he roared. "He must have found it as soon as he moved into that laboratory you gave him! You see, Krang?! He was never really on our side. He was always putting something over on us!"

"It is starting to look that way, isn't it," Krang said, staring at the screen.

"And I can tell you more," the computer smirked. "Barney knew all along that he didn't kill Baxter with that crowbar. He lied to you, Krang! He wanted to keep you from ordering Baxter killed if you knew he was still alive. He hurt Baxter in a fit of blind rage and instantly regretted it."

Krang's eyes narrowed. "Alright! You've made your point. What do you want?"

"I just wanted to tell you what you've done," said the computer. "You sent your digital monsters throughout the city and specifically wanted to target Barney's laptop. Well, guess what you just did?"

Krang took a step back. "No. Oh no."

"That's right! You've made me lose my mind. Now I think I'll make you lose your Technodrome. Or at least, your method of communication with the outside world. Have a nice day."

The screen went dark and suddenly exploded, sending both Krang and Shredder flying across the room. For a moment they sat dazed, gawking at the smoking, twisted mess that had been their transdimensional screen and portal.

Before they had time to recover, a smaller series of explosions sounded from the direction of the transport modules. Every tube's control panel had blown up. No modules could leave. Their brilliant plan to conquer the city had just backfired in their faces.

"Krang," Shredder said at last, "this has to be the most idiotic idea you could have come up with! You created a monster!"

"Oh? I didn't hear you objecting when I first presented the idea!" Krang snapped.

"I should have had my head examined!" Shredder roared. "Now what are we going to do?!"

Once again Krang stared at the remnants of the screen. "Start looking for spare parts."

xxxx

The Turtles had picked up Baxter and were following his directions to Barney's house when the computer in the Van switched to Vincent's face. "Greetings, Turtles," he sneered.

"Oh great. It's HAL," Raphael scowled.

"Vincent!" Baxter ran over to the console. "Vincent, what are you doing?!"

"Hello, old pal," Vincent said, but without his usual warmth. "I just thought you might all like to know, I blew up the transdimensional screen in the Technodrome. I also destroyed the transport modules' control panels."

"You're on the Technodrome?" Raphael said with a quirked eyebrow.

"No. I did it remotely, by hacking into their computer system." Vincent smirked. "I thought they should have a taste of their own medicine. When they try to repair the screen, they're going to receive a flurry of reprogrammed digital monsters to infest their computers."

"Okay, I have to admit, that sounds delicious," Raphael said. "They could use some good old-fashioned karma to come back and bite them."

"But . . . that doesn't sound right," Baxter frowned. "I mean . . . they deserve it, but it doesn't sound like something you would do, Vincent. You take control of other computers. You don't damage them!"

"They can be fixed," Vincent said flippantly. "Shredder and Krang caused this; they should be able to reverse it."

"Vincent . . ." Baxter slumped back. "You've been affected too, haven't you?"

"Of course I have," Vincent replied. "I've taken over Barney's house. But I'm afraid I had to remove him from the premises."

"What?!" Baxter stared in sickened horror. "Is he hurt?!"

"No, he's not hurt," Vincent frowned. "I wouldn't hurt him. I . . ." He hissed in pain and looked away.

"Oh Vincent. . . ." Baxter reached out, touching the screen. "Please hang on. We're going to find a way to help you! We have to. . . ."

Vincent looked back, his eyes now filled with regret. "I'm so sorry, Baxter. Tell Barney I'm sorry. I . . ." The screen went dark.

"Vincent!" Baxter screamed. _"Vincent!"_ He slammed his hands on the console and then sat down, desperately working the controls to try to reestablish contact. But it was no use. He either could not reach Vincent or Vincent refused to let him through. He slumped forward, propping his elbows on the console. "Poor Vincent. . . . Poor Barney. . . . No wonder I couldn't get through on the phone. . . ."

Michelangelo came over, laying a hand on his shoulder. "We're gonna save Vincent, Baxter," he soothed. "There's gotta be a way, right, Donatello?!"

"I . . ." Donatello swallowed hard. "I'm sure there is," he said. "If we can just get access to the laptop. . . ."

"That won't be easy," Baxter said, shaking his head. "Especially since Vincent has the solid energy generator. . . ."

"Oh, you mean he's moving around now?" Raphael frowned. "There is no way we're going to catch _a walking computer_."

" _You_ probably can't," Baxter agreed.

"And he's kicked Barney out of the house," Raphael went on. "So what hope is there?!"

"There's plenty of hope!" Baxter snapped. "He kicked Barney out without hurting him. He still won't harm us. And his true self is still there; those creatures didn't destroy it!"

"Baxter's right," Leonardo said. "We need to approach this like we would if a human was being possessed or mind-controlled."

"Of course, I wasn't very hopeful about Vernon, either," Raphael pointed out.

"And he proved you wrong, Dude," Michelangelo said.

"But Vincent's not a human!" Raphael said in frustration. "He's a computer!"

"A sentient, living computer," Donatello said. "He's always fascinated me, actually . . . even though at the same time I don't know what to make of him."

Baxter wasn't in the mood to hear the Turtles start a debate about Vincent right now. "The street's up there," he pointed.

Leonardo turned. "And there's Barney on the sidewalk," he frowned.

Barney was standing now but still looked lost. When he saw the Turtle Van pulling over to the curb, what actually looked like hope came into his eyes. He hurried over as the side door opened.

"Barney!" Baxter ran to meet him. "What happened?! Are you alright?!"

"I'm not physically hurt," Barney answered, his voice pinched.

"We know about Vincent," Michelangelo said. "Mondo bummer."

"I'm going back in there," Barney retorted. "I have to save him. But I . . . I can't do it alone." He looked to Baxter. "I need someone to try to distract him long enough for me to slip back inside."

"We can totally run a distraction," Michelangelo said. "You two should both go in. You've got the best chance of getting him to listen!"

Barney started and turned to stare. "All of you will help? I never thought . . ."

"Of course we're gonna help!" Michelangelo insisted. "And even if Raphael and Donatello said No, Leonardo and I'd come with you."

"But we're all going to pitch in, regardless of our feelings about you or Vincent," Raphael added.

Leonardo nodded. "We'll run the distractions. If you know how to get back in the house, Barney, you and Baxter should both go, like Michelangelo said."

"Once you have Vincent subdued, I'll try to help you repair the damage," Donatello offered. "I think I've developed a way to remotely fix at least some of the computers in the city. I'm just not sure it will work on Vincent since he's not from Earth."

Barney nodded. "I'm sure we'll need to work with him in person." He paused, awkward. "Thank you. . . . All of you. . . . I know most of you don't trust or like Vincent . . . or me. . . ."

"But we all care about Baxter," Raphael said. "Anyway, if we just let Vincent run free, he might try to take over the whole city. One way or another, we have to stop him."

"We have to _save_ him," Baxter emphasized. "Please . . . please don't take it upon yourselves to harm him. Not unless there's absolutely no choice. . . ." His voice caught in his throat.

"We won't, Amigo," Michelangelo insisted. "Of course we're gonna save him!"

It only took a few minutes to outline the plan. The Turtles used the catapult through the roof to propel themselves over the wall and into the yard, where they proceeded to run around, look for security cameras, and generally make a lot of noise.

"Vincent's going to realize they're just a distraction," Barney remarked as he led Baxter around the side of the gate.

"Do you think he's figured out where this entrance is?" Baxter wondered.

"Maybe," Barney said. "But he might not be expecting this." He pushed a brick in and a panel in the wall swung open. He dove inside, followed quickly by Baxter, and headed for a spot behind a thick bush.

Baxter caught up in time to see him open a fusebox and pull the switch. He blinked in surprise.

"Now he should be without power," Barney smirked. "Quick, let's get inside." He slipped past the bush and pressed another brick. A second panel opened and he led Baxter into a passageway.

"This is incredible," Baxter said in amazement. "But how do you keep just anyone from discovering these panels?"

"I have my ways," Barney said. "Sometime I'll show you." He headed through the passageway and finally came out in the middle of the living room.

At the same time, Vincent was coming down the stairs. "Bravo, old buddy," he mocked. "You made it back inside. And you even temporarily cut off the power. But don't think you've managed to defeat me."

"I wouldn't be that stupid." Barney backed up towards the kitchen doorway.

"I'm here too, Vincent," Baxter said as he hurried into view. "We're going to find a way to help you, no matter how your damaged circuitry causes you to fight us." He stepped forward in determination. "We both know you don't want to hurt us. Somewhere deep down, you're still our friend."

Vincent glowered at him and turned away, following Barney into the kitchen. Baxter chased after him.

Barney was standing by the island. "We were all here in the morning," he said. "Do you remember, Vincent? You and Baxter were talking and I came down and overheard some of it. As usual, you were trying to be the mediator, to help us understand each other better."

"That was the old Vincent," the alien computer retorted. "I have no use for such things now."

"And I have no use for the new Vincent!" Barney snarled.

"Barney!" Baxter exclaimed in shock.

Barney ignored him. "You're nothing! You're a pathetic little worm that thinks you're so great because you can reprogram things. But the old Vincent . . ." He stepped forward, his eyes flashing in determination. "The old Vincent took a broken, hateful man and slowly began to mend him. He listened to every rant, every tirade, and he was never shy about speaking the truth, even when it hurt. He saw everything that was wrong, but he also saw what was right. He helped soothe the pain, the illogical anger, and he always encouraged his companion to be the good person that he knew was there. He softened that hateful man so that he was more willing to listen to reason, to his brother . . . to want to cast off the hate that had plagued him for years. The old Vincent . . . changed my life. And I want him back."

Vincent stared down at him for a long moment. "Barney?" he quavered.

"Yes. Yes, Vincent, I'm here." Barney reached for him. "Let me shut down the laptop. Then we can try to fix what went wrong."

Baxter came forward as well, his stomach churning, his gaze never leaving their tormented friend. Would it work? Could Vincent stay in control long enough?

He jumped when Vincent reached out, catching Barney's wrist before he could press the Power button. "No!" Vincent pushed Barney back. "You're not going to take me offline. You're not going to disconnect me!"

Barney stumbled back. "Vincent, you're going to be fine," he said. "You know we can't disconnect you. You can still talk to us while we're working. It's just that you won't be able to see until we're done."

"You're not going to blind me!" Vincent snarled. "No one is ever going to have power over me again!"

"Vincent, no," Baxter protested. "You know we've never tried to have power over you. We've always wanted you to be free to do what you want."

"If you ask me, he's sounding more and more like HAL," Raphael suddenly commented from the doorway. "Hi, kids. Need some help?"

Vincent backed up at the sight of the Turtles, his eyes flashing, his expression shifting back and forth between confusion, anguish, and anger. In the end, it was the anger that won out. But what he said next stunned all of them.

"You . . . you hypocrites!" he snapped.

"Come again?!" Michelangelo blinked.

"We're hypocrites?" Raphael raised an eyebrow. "We're the good guys here, you know." Slowly he advanced into the kitchen, followed by the other Turtles. They spread out, weapons bared in case they were needed.

Vincent's blue eyes flashed with fire as he pointed accusingly at them. "Oh yes, you're the good guys," he mocked. "Everyone thinks you're so wonderful. But you only help when it fits your idea of what someone who should be helped is like!"

"Hey, if that was true, we wouldn't help Vernon," Raphael retorted. "And we wouldn't ever try to help Barney. Or you!"

"You could have helped Baxter much sooner than you did!" Vincent snarled. "But instead you believed Shredder's lies. You never even tried to find out if Baxter's story could be true! And then after he was cross-fused, you sent him to other dimensions over and over! You left him to starve!"

Michelangelo trembled. He hadn't even really thought about that. He had assumed there would always be food, like there was in Dimension X. "We . . . we did?" he whispered. "He never said anything about that. . . ."

"Oh Michelangelo, he's just trying to psych you out," Raphael retorted. But he clutched his sais tighter.

"He was so hungry that he even tried eating the solid energy generator!" Vincent fumed.

Baxter flinched. He had vague memories of starving, of everything starting to look like food. But that was all in the past. He didn't want it brought up now. Michelangelo looked horrified and stricken. "Vincent, I'm alright now," he tried to say.

"That doesn't make up for the past," Vincent retorted.

"Okay, you're right," Raphael snapped. "We really did wrong by Baxter. But what the heck were we supposed to do when he kept coming up with new, sick revenge plots?!"

"You could have helped him!" Vincent screamed. "He wouldn't have been your enemy if you had helped him get free of the fly!"

"Oh yeah?" Raphael countered. "You're so smart, why didn't you think of a way to help him? Instead, you just gave him that stupid mutation gun and sent him off to turn Shred-Head into a fly and Michelangelo into a gerbil!"

"If you'd helped him before that, it never would have even happened!" Vincent shot back.

But then he stumbled back, his eyes widening. If Baxter had been helped before that . . . if he had never been in the catacombs . . . he never would have found Vincent. He might still be down there. Or worse, those archaeologists might have found him and he'd be in some government lab somewhere. But . . . did that mean he had to be grateful that Baxter had suffered? He had to feel that it had to have been that way? His friendship with Baxter never would have taken place if not for the cross-fusion? And then he wouldn't have met Barney either?

Baxter and Barney exchanged a worried look. "Vincent?" Barney started forward now.

Electricity sparked from the laptop and at Vincent's fingertips. His eyes became wild again and he shot out a blast of electricity at the entire group.

Raphael yelped and somersaulted away. Baxter and Barney dived to the sides. Michelangelo leaped in the air. Leonardo blocked the attack with his katanas and Donatello tried to trip Vincent with his bo. Vincent responded by blasting directly at him. The bo splintered.

"Oh, sweet move, Raphael!" Michelangelo exclaimed. "Yeah, by all means, let's tick off the superpowered computer-guy!"

"He's gone completely wacko!" Raphael cried.

"Something caused him to short-circuit," Donatello said. "If we could just get close enough to help him . . ."

"I've got news for you, Donatello," Raphael said. "That's not going to happen."

"Vincent, come on!" Michelangelo pleaded. "You're gonna hurt Baxter and Barney if you're not careful!"

Vincent blasted at him.

"Michelangelo!" Barney flew at the Turtle from the side, tackling him to the floor.

Stunned, Michelangelo looked up at his rescuer. "Hey, I could've jumped out of the way," he said in concern. "But that was a mondo move, Dude!"

Barney had never been called _Dude_ before meeting Michelangelo. Maybe when things were calmer he would ponder on the oddness of it. For now, he had just wanted to protect the Turtle he had hurt in the past. Even though it could never make up for what he had done.

Raphael ducked behind the counter as Vincent blasted at him. "I am getting very tempted to just throw water on him and be done with it."

"No!" Baxter said in horror. "No, you can't. Please!" He ran forward, desperate now and determined. "Vincent, you have to stop this. We only want to help you."

"Speak for yourself," Raphael muttered.

"Shush," Leonardo retorted.

"Vincent, I don't want to have to resort to anything that will hurt you!" Baxter said in anguish. "This isn't your fault. You're a victim!"

"A victim of Krang's desire for revenge," Barney added darkly. "He wanted to get back at me. Now he's made this war personal."

Vincent looked at them for a long moment. Instead of recognition and warmth, there was only a cold darkness. More electricity crackled in his hands.

"Vincent, _please!_ " Baxter's voice was all but strangled now in his anguish. "You were my first friend. I know you're still in there. You were angry about me being mistreated a few minutes ago. Please come back."

Vincent responded by blasting at Baxter. But as soon as the particularly powerful burst of electricity had left his fingertips, a look of horror swept over him. "No . . ." He leaped forward, catching the blast himself before collapsing lifelessly to the floor.

Baxter screamed. "Vincent . . ." He fell to his knees, shaking, reaching for the limp wrist.

Raphael cautiously peered around the counter. "What's he trying to do, check for a pulse?" he muttered.

"Raphael," Leonardo hissed.

Baxter, of course, wasn't checking for a pulse, but just desperately seeking a reaction. The screen had gone dead and Baxter couldn't get a response either by touching Vincent's hand or by typing on the keyboard.

"Vincent, no, not like this," Baxter whispered. "Please . . . you can't be gone. . . ." Tears slipped from his eyes. "I love you. . . ."

Barney came over and knelt down. "Let me take over."

Wide-eyed, Baxter slid to the side, allowing Barney access to the keyboard.

Barney didn't speak, but his hands were trembling as he removed the solid energy generator and then took the laptop on his lap, furiously typing commands. "The laptop hasn't been permanently damaged," he said. "Maybe now we can try to repair what Krang's monsters did."

"And Vincent?" Baxter choked out. "Will he be alright? . . . Or is it just an ordinary laptop now?"

Barney shook his head. "I don't know." He paused. "But considering all that he's survived, do you really think this could terminate him?"

"No," Baxter said slowly. "Only . . . he's never gone haywire like this before." He watched Barney for a moment. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I can manage for now." Barney stood, carrying the laptop to the kitchen table. "This is going to take some time."

He didn't let down his shields, didn't show how he was aching or afraid. But Baxter knew he was. They both loved that alien computer.

Michelangelo came and knelt beside Baxter. "Hey, I'm sure he'll be okay," he said.

"I hope so." Baxter trembled.

Barney spoke without looking to them. "Krang did this just to get at me. He didn't know Vincent was here, but he hoped that he would destroy my laptop. He knew I loved that laptop. . . . He just didn't know why."

Baxter choked in horror. "Oh no. . . ."

"I knew something would happen," Barney snarled. "I tried to make myself believe that only I would be targeted if anyone was, but I should have known Krang would never stop there."

Michelangelo drew an arm around Baxter. "Vincent's tough. He'll pull through."

Baxter closed his eyes and nodded. He would keep hoping for that, no matter how impossible it seemed.

Michelangelo stood, laying a hand on Barney's shoulder now. "He will," he insisted.

Barney jumped a mile and turned, looking up at Michelangelo in disbelief. Such an unbelievably kind, forgiving, affectionate character. . . . But there was no time to ponder on that wonder right now. He looked back to the laptop as he desperately continued his work.

Michelangelo stepped away, hesitating before speaking again. "Baxter?" He looked down. "Were you . . . really starving?"

Baxter hated to hear the guilt in Michelangelo's voice. "Yes," he said quietly as he got to his feet. "But I'm alright. You had to defeat me. You did what you felt was logical."

"If we'd only known there wasn't any food . . ." Michelangelo shut his eyes tightly.

"You couldn't have known. Please don't blame yourself, Michelangelo." Baxter looked to Barney. "And please don't blame yourself for what Krang did."

"I blame Krang," Barney snarled. ". . . And myself."

"You tried so hard to keep Vincent safe," Baxter said. "You couldn't have done more." He stood, coming over to the table as well.

"I wonder," Barney muttered.

xxxx

The next hours were long and agonizing. Barney worked hard to repair the damage Krang had caused. Every now and then, Baxter or Donatello took over to try a trick they knew. Between the three of them, they finally got the laptop running. But there was still no sign of Vincent.

"What do we do?!" Baxter cried.

"If he doesn't revive soon, I'll have to open the laptop and try to examine the motherboard by itself," Barney frowned. "I'm not seeing that there are any more errors with the system, but . . ." He drew a heavy sigh. "The motherboard may or may not be able to run properly without Vincent's input."

Donatello nodded. "We just don't know enough about how that alien technology functioned."

"How could it work without Vincent?" Raphael frowned. "Isn't he, you know, the force powering the thing?"

Baxter looked down. "Unless he . . . died. . . ."

"Like a person or something? Come on, Baxter." Raphael folded his arms. "Vincent's a computer. He's an A.I. program. He's not real."

"He _is_ real, Raphael," Baxter retorted, a rare anger flashing through his eyes. "What's more, I know you know it. You're trying to say he's just a program because that helps you deal with this situation. You're uncomfortable around him not just because of the past, but because you recognize that he's alive."

"Okay, yeah, you're right," Raphael snapped. "That does make me uncomfortable, because it's really, really creepy! He's not like any kind of A.I. program I've ever seen. He feels, he thinks, he gets mad, he . . . loves. He really is a living computer. You don't think that's enough to freak a Turtle out?!"

"Hey, easy, Raphael," Michelangelo said. "Actually, I think it's kinda cool."

"You would," Raphael retorted.

"I thought you liked MACC the robot, and he was pretty much the same way," Michelangelo said. "Being alive and all."

"Yeah, but MACC was always one of the good guys, except when Shred-Head tried to control him," Raphael retorted. "Vincent was one of the bad guys!"

"I don't think he saw it that way," Michelangelo said. "I think he saw it like he was trying to help his only friend get what he wanted-revenge on people that he figured deserved whatever they got."

"That only makes it even more messed-up!" Raphael exclaimed.

Baxter looked back and forth between them, stunned. He wasn't sure what was more surprising, hearing them argue over Vincent or hearing them argue at all. He couldn't remember ever hearing Raphael get this keyed up with one of the other Turtles.

Barney, meanwhile, showed no outward reactions. He just kept staring at the laptop screen as though if he did that long enough, Vincent would revive.

"Okay, yeah, but how about this?" Michelangelo still sounded hopeful. "Vincent started out as a bad guy when we first knew him, because of his love for Baxter and how he wanted to help Baxter get his revenge . . ."

"And how he wanted to make a computer-ocracy," Raphael interjected.

Michelangelo ignored that. "But actually, it was that same love for Baxter that turned him into one of the good guys! He had to stop Barney from hurting Baxter and that made him get a new outlook on things. He started trying to steer Barney on a better path instead of encouraging him on a path to destruction. He's not the same as he was, Raphael. He's really not."

"Well, he sure doesn't like us much," Raphael grunted. "So it's hard to feel too bad about not liking him either!"

"I think he has a right to be upset that we just left Baxter to starve," Michelangelo said quietly. "But even at that, he never said anything against us before he went all gonzo from Krang's monsters. He was trying to make friends with us because he knew Baxter cared about us. You were making an effort too, Bud."

"Because of Baxter," Raphael muttered.

"And hey, he could have been mad about when Leonardo blew him up and left him as just a motherboard," Michelangelo went on. "Or how Donatello shocked him. Instead, all he talked about was how we treated Baxter. In the end, that was what mattered more to him than anything else.

"You two aren't really so different. You're both really protective of Baxter. That should count for something."

Raphael folded his arms. "Okay, so what do you suggest? We kiss and make up?"

"Just try to think of him like when Baxter flipped out or when Vernon got possessed or . . . or like when Master Splinter was mind-controlled." Michelangelo's voice lowered at this. He hated to bring it up, but he hoped it might get his message across.

Raphael stiffened. " _Don't_ compare that box of computer chips to Master Splinter!" he snarled. "It's not the same thing!"

"It is too the same thing!" Michelangelo shot back. "They're both alive and they both acted out because of stuff outside of their control! Baxter's right: Vincent was a victim today! Heck, he even blasted at Baxter! You know he didn't really want to do that! Then he took it himself to save his amigo." His voice lowered. "And don't you think that anybody who loves someone that much deserves another chance?"

Raphael looked away, finally out of words. Michelangelo had reached him.

Barney slammed his hand on the table, breaking the silence in the room. Everyone jumped. Ignoring them, he leaned forward and spoke low into the laptop. "Vincent, can you hear me?! Say something if you can hear me. Wake up!" He trembled, propping himself up on an elbow as his voice grew more strained and desperate. "Wake up. . . ." When there was no response, Barney crossed his arms on the table and slumped over them, defeated.

Baxter still didn't want to give up. But it looked as though they were going to have to wait some time longer. He stood, hesitating at first but then laying a hand on Barney's shoulder.

At first Barney flinched. But then he relaxed, saying nothing but allowing Baxter to remain.

After a moment Baxter looked up at the Turtles. "Thank you, Michelangelo," he said softly. "It means a lot to me that you're so determined to understand Vincent.

"And thank you, Raphael."

Raphael started. "Why are you thanking me?!" he demanded.

"Because you're protective, of both the other Turtles and me. I can't blame you for distrusting Vincent or feeling uncomfortable with him around. It would be a hard thing for you to get used to. But Michelangelo is right: he's changed from when you knew him before. And he was only hostile today because of what Krang did to him. He _is_ a victim."

"Was," Barney mumbled.

"I won't believe he's gone!" Baxter cried. "Not yet. You said yourself about taking the motherboard out of the laptop to examine it more closely. Why not at least wait to do that before writing him off?"

"I will do that," Barney said, still not looking up. "But I don't want to have false hope. If I believe instead that he's dead, then I won't be as crushed to find that he is. But I have the chance to instead be happy if I discover he's alive."

Baxter's heart twisted at the sound of his brother's wobbling voice. Barney would never admit it. It was probably why he wouldn't change his position in any way. He didn't want anyone to see that he was either crying or close to it-not Baxter and certainly not the Turtles.

"But if you believe he's dead, maybe he will lose some of the strength to fight to live," Baxter said quietly. "We don't know what kind of struggles a sentient computer has. I'm afraid he's dead, but I have to keep believing he's not. Especially after . . . after I already thought you were gone. I can't do that again. I _can't._ " He shook his head. "I _won't._ "

Barney was silent a moment. "You are once again the strong one," he said at last. "You're trying to encourage me. If I were really strong, I would be the one trying to encourage you. And I should be, since you had to watch Vincent fall to save you."

"It's not strength to refuse to accept a possibility because you're afraid you'll break if you do," Baxter said, his voice tinged with sadness. "I don't feel strong at all right now. I feel like I'm desperately trying to keep it together the only way I know how. If I wasn't trying to help you and not give you something else to stress over, I think I would have completely fallen apart before now."

"I'm sorry," Barney mumbled.

"Don't be," Baxter answered. "Anyway, no one can be strong all the time. And it doesn't matter. What matters is that we both love Vincent. We often show it in different ways, but that doesn't make one way better than another way. Vincent knows that. We're so different, but he loves us the same."

"And that still doesn't make sense to me." Barney finally rose up. There was no trace of any tears, but now his eyes were flashing. He was going back to anger to deal with his pain. "How could he possibly love me the same as he does you, especially before the lightning gun incident?!"

"He saw what you were capable of before you saw it," Baxter insisted. "And considering he started out hating you, it's clear that he knew what he was doing. He hasn't ever blindly adored you." After a pause he added, "Neither have I."

"And that is the most preposterous thing of all," Barney shot back.

xxxx

They decided to wait a little longer before taking the laptop apart. Baxter and Barney sat opposite from each other at the table, the laptop on the table between them and facing outward instead of at either of them. The Turtles, not sure what to do, sometimes lingered in the kitchen and sometimes wandered into the living room.

"Maybe we should just go and give them this time alone," Donatello said.

"We stayed to offer support," Leonardo said.

"Oh yeah, and how much support do you think we've been able to give them with me and Michelangelo arguing all over the place?" Raphael retorted.

"Well, we got past that," Michelangelo said. "I think we should stay at least a little while longer."

The laptop suddenly whirred to life, the lights at the bottom rapidly blinking and flashing.

The brothers perked up. "Vincent?" Barney asked.

"Are you there?" Baxter leaned forward on the table.

The welcome sight of Vincent's face filled the screen. "Baxter? Barney?" He looked confused, even dazed.

Baxter's eyes shone with joy. "You're alright!" He leaped up, hugging the laptop.

Barney sprang up as well, although he tried to be more practical. Perhaps he was still cautious, still not quite brave enough to believe. "Vincent, do you remember what happened?" he asked.

"I . . . think so. Yes." Vincent looked sickened. "I kicked you out of the house. I tried to hurt Baxter's friends. I . . . tried to hurt Baxter." Horror spread through his eyes.

"You didn't want to do any of those things," Baxter said firmly.

"It was Krang's fault," Barney said, his tone dark. "He deliberately sent those monsters through your screen to hurt you."

"And you saved me," Baxter said. "I could never be angry at you for what happened."

"But what if I had hurt one of the Turtles?" Vincent protested.

"I wouldn't have blamed you," Baxter insisted. "Barney is right; it was all Krang's fault."

Barney held up the solid energy generator. "I removed this while we worked on your circuitry. Do you want it back?"

"Do you really trust me with it?" Vincent asked.

Barney slipped it into the slot. "Yes."

Vincent closed his eyes, willing the energy-created body back into being. But when he climbed down from the table, he knelt in front of the brothers. "I am . . . so sorry," he said sorrowfully. "I betrayed you both."

Baxter and Barney exchanged a troubled look. Vincent had always considered computers so much better than people-although he took exception with the brothers. But to kneel before them meant that he was so stricken with guilt that he felt subservient.

Together, they stood and each took one of Vincent's hands, gently pulling him to his feet. "You didn't," Baxter said.

"Anything you did, you weren't responsible for and you've made up for it," Barney added.

Baxter embraced Vincent from the side, hugging him close. Vincent just stared, not sure what to make of it and stunned that Baxter felt so trusting right now.

Barney hung back. He certainly wasn't a physically affectionate person and he never had been. But Vincent was alive and relatively alright. In time, hopefully he would be able to forgive himself. Barney didn't want to see Vincent racked with the same kind of self-hatred that plagued him. Especially when Vincent really wasn't to blame.

Finally Barney came forward, slowly embracing Vincent from the other side. "I thought you were dead," he rasped. "I couldn't handle that. I couldn't . . ."

Now Vincent was even more stunned. He had come to know both brothers so well, yet he had not really expected this sort of reunion from Barney at all. He had expected instead for Barney to talk to him calmly and rationally when they were alone.

Barney's grip tightened. "I thought Krang had taken my only friend away from me." His voice darkened. "I won't tolerate that. I realize it's partially my own fault for working under them, but trying to get at me through my loved ones is not acceptable. From now on, I will actively fight against Krang and Shredder."

Baxter looked up in surprise. He had known Barney was angry, but he hadn't expected that himself. Barney had instead acted as though he wanted to try to make a life for himself without joining the fight, as Baxter had felt right after he had become human again. And Baxter, not wanting Barney to put himself in more danger, had been perfectly alright with that. He would, however, respect and support Barney's new decision.

At last Vincent drew an arm around each brother. "Where you go, I go," he said softly. "I will fight against them too."

"I think you already started that by blowing up their equipment," Baxter chuckled.

Barney stared. "He did what?!"

In the living room, Leonardo started for the door. "I think this is a good place to make our exit."

Michelangelo was ecstatic. "Alright! This is totally bodacious! Vincent's okay and now we've really got him and Barney as our buds in the fight against evil!"

"A short-tempered maniac and a living computer," Raphael muttered. "Are we sure this is a good thing?"

Donatello just smiled. Raphael was happy that Vincent was alright. He just wouldn't admit it.

"I think it will be," Leonardo said.

"And hey, Raphael, Barney saved me when Vincent was going all gonzo on us," Michelangelo reminded as they slipped outside. "He could have got mondo hurt. That's gotta count for something, right?"

Raphael paused. "Yeah," he finally conceded, his voice quiet. "It does."

xxxx

Barney sighed, sinking into his living room couch in exhaustion. "I can't believe how long this day has been. It's felt more like a year."

"I'm sorry," Vincent said sadly. "It's because of me." He sat down as well, next to Barney.

"It's because of Krang," Baxter insisted from the other side of the couch. "And by now I'm sure he regrets what he did."

"Good," Barney grumbled.

"I hope those computers will be alright," Vincent worried. "Baxter, you're right. I never wanted to hurt any fellow computers, even if they're not sentient like I am."

"I'm sure they'll be fine," Baxter soothed. "And Donatello's saved all the computers and other damaged devices in the city with his invention."

"Baxter . . ." Vincent gave his friend a look mixed with guilt and regret. "I'm sorry I said all those things to your friends. Those were all things I thought, but when they finally did help you and you got so much better because of them, I tried to feel better about them. I never intended to say any of those dark thoughts."

"I know," Baxter said. "They realize you were a victim today."

"But maybe they think I would have said what I did anyway at some point. Raphael is right; I should have found a way to help you be human again."

"You tried, Vincent," Baxter said softly. "You hoped maybe the mutation gun would work on my transformation as well, but it just couldn't seem to handle a cross-fusion. It was only made for normal mutations involving one entity at a time, not for separating two entities that had merged."

Barney shuddered. He tried not to really think about the details of Baxter's affliction much, as it was too grotesque and horrifying for him to stand picturing his brother suffering like that. He was a scientist, supposed to look at everything logically and rationally and not let his emotions interfere, but when it came to something like that it was impossible.

"And I have vague memories of sometimes rousing up from sleep and finding you desperately looking through your databanks for anything that might help," Baxter continued. "You did all you could."

"It just . . . wasn't enough," Vincent finished.

"It meant the world to me to know I had a loving, loyal friend," Baxter said. "You were the one bright spot I had during that horrible time."

Barney looked away. Baxter hadn't been able to rely on him. He had been so bitter and angry at his brother. He hadn't wanted to see him at all at that point in his life, and seeing him in that state had absolutely sickened him. But he had covered his horror with anger, and worse, with laughter. He hadn't even understood how such a thing could have happened. He had chosen to believe Baxter had botched an experiment and brought it on himself. He hadn't listened.

"I'm glad," Vincent said. "But I'm still worried about saying those things to your friends. Maybe this will make things awkward for you. They left without saying Goodbye."

"I saw them leave," Baxter said. "I think they just wanted to let us have that time alone. I'm sure everything will be fine. But . . ." He hesitated. "You could apologize to them, if you'd like. . . ."

"They might hang up if they saw I was calling," Vincent said.

"They wouldn't do that," Baxter assured him. "But I could call and then give the Turtle-Comm to you."

". . . Alright," Vincent said slowly.

Baxter took it out, relieved to see that it was indeed working again. He pressed a button and waited.

"Hey, Baxter!" Michelangelo greeted. "Is everything still gnarly?"

"Things are peaceful here, Michelangelo," Baxter said. "Except that Vincent would like to say something to you and the other Turtles."

"Oh yeah? Put him on!" Michelangelo held the Turtle-Comm so the others were visible gathered around him.

Baxter handed the device to Vincent, who awkwardly took it. "Hello, Turtles. I . . ." He looked to Baxter and then back at the screen. "I wanted to apologize for what I did . . . and said. . . . I said what I honestly felt in the past, but once all of you changed, I wasn't going to say those things to you. . . ."

"Hey, it's okay," Michelangelo said. He sobered. "I kind of wish you'd said that stuff to us while Baxter was cross-fused. . . . I'm sure it would have made a difference. . . ."

"Then I wish I had," Vincent agreed. "I didn't think you'd listen."

"I'm not sure I would have listened," Raphael admitted. "But you would have had Michelangelo's complete attention."

"Well," said Leonardo, "what's done is done. We regret the past ourselves. But we're grateful that we did end up helping Baxter at last. And for my part, I forgive you for today, Vincent."

"Me too," Michelangelo said.

". . . So do I," Donatello said after a moment. "I know we still have issues we need to work through, but today wasn't your fault."

All eyes went to Raphael, who finally sighed in resigned exasperation. "Okay, yeah. I don't like you, but I won't hold today against you."

"So that makes it unanimous, Dude!" Michelangelo chirped.

"Is everyone _Dude_ to you?" Barney finally spoke.

" _Dude_ , or _amigo_ , or _compadre_ . . . lots of things!" Michelangelo said.

Vincent still looked awkward, but relieved as well. "Thank you . . . all of you." He handed the Turtle-Comm back to Baxter.

"Let's hope it will be a while before Krang strikes again," Baxter said. "At least a few days."

"I sure hope it!" Michelangelo said.

"We'll let you get to bed now," Baxter said. "I know it's late."

"We are kinda bushed," Michelangelo said. "You guys probably are too."

Baxter nodded. "It's been an extremely long day for all of us. Goodnight."

"'Night!" Michelangelo waved with his free hand.

Baxter smiled as he hung up. "Well, that's settled."

"I guess the next thing I need to do is try to talk to Donatello," Vincent said. "Since he is the logically-minded Turtle, I would probably have more luck with him than Raphael. Only . . ." He shifted, nervous. "Donatello is the one I'm actually afraid of."

Barney blinked. "Afraid of him? Why?"

"He tortured me once," Vincent said. "I understand why he did it; he was so worried about Michelangelo and needed to know where the mutation gun was to turn him back to normal. Then later, he threatened to torment me again when he needed different information. I understand it, but . . . when he's willing to go to those lengths, I don't know that I really trust him any more than he does me."

"And that's completely understandable," Baxter said. "But I've never heard of Donatello hurting anyone else to get information from them. Maybe he didn't really understand that you're alive."

"He understood that I could feel pain," Vincent said.

Baxter frowned. "You do need to talk with him," he said. "I hate to think that it couldn't be worked out . . . or that Donatello really has such a dark side. I can't believe he would have done it if he'd really understood."

"Raphael, on the other hand, will probably always hate both of us," Barney said to Vincent. "You'd better get used to it."

"Even Raphael's heart can be softened," Baxter said. "I wouldn't count him out yet."

"I won't," Vincent said. "But I'll prepare myself for the possibility that he will continue to hate us."

Barney didn't want to argue the point. "So Krang has fully failed again. Some weeks ago, I might have been part of this plot instead of the intended target." He looked tired. "I wish I'd never been part of any of those schemes. I tried to tell myself I didn't care if they conquered the world. . . . At first, I don't think I did. Not when their attempts to do it were so ridiculous. But I was forgetting one key factor-they tried to murder you, Baxter. Vincent tried to tell me that almost from the start and I wouldn't listen." He ran a hand over his face. "I was such an idiot. . . ."

"You wanted to belong somewhere so badly," Baxter said softly. "You tried to tell yourself that you belonged there, with them. You thought you really did."

"Oh, don't make more excuses for me, Brother," Barney mumbled, his hand over his eyes. ". . . Even though that's the truth."

Vincent rested an arm along the back of the couch. "At least you realized your mistakes before it was too late," he said.

"I put both of you through so much," Barney sighed.

"Once Krang had the idea for the lightning gun, he would have built it whether you were onboard or not," Baxter said. "As horrible as it all was, you did need to be there to stop it. And to find Vincent. He'd probably still be there if you hadn't decided to throw in with them."

"That's strange, isn't it," Vincent frowned. "That sometimes it seems like only bad situations lead to certain discoveries. What made me so upset that I short-circuited and started blasting at everyone was that I realized if you hadn't fused with the fly, you probably never would have found me in the catacombs. And I hated the thought that I had to be grateful for your misery because we never would have met otherwise and I wouldn't have met Barney either."

"That is a depressing thought," Baxter admitted. "I've never wanted to believe in fate or destiny, but if one did, I suppose one could say that if we were all supposed to meet, we would have no matter the circumstances." He folded his arms. "But I've always preferred the idea that we make our own destinies. The important thing is that we're together now, no matter how we met."

Barney looked up at the ceiling without really seeing it. "I'm going to have to look for a job soon," he remarked. "I'll have to actually try honest work again."

"And you'll make it," Vincent told him. "After everything you've been through, it's a privilege that you have the chance to try again."

"You have more faith in me than I do," Barney grunted. "As always."

"And you and Baxter both believed in me today," Vincent said.

"You were a victim, like we said," Barney retorted. "Oh, and by the way, Baxter, if you want a picture for your apartment, I'm willing. What do you think, Vincent?"

"Me?" Vincent blinked. "You want me to be in the picture?"

"It's a family photo," Barney said gruffly.

Baxter started to smile. "That's a wonderful idea. Barney, I . . . I'm touched."

"I was just thinking about it after hearing your conversation in the morning," Barney shrugged. "It seemed like a nice idea."

"Of course, Mother will never understand," Baxter said with a bittersweet chuckle.

"And I couldn't care less," Barney answered.

Vincent stared off into the distance, moved and overwhelmed by what he was hearing. He was a family member. The aliens whose culture he was from had treated him like the living being he was, but they had never been close to him. Then the ship had crashed and they had died. For centuries he had been alone, so starved for companionship that he had tried to talk with the much less sentient robots on the ship. Sometimes he had toyed with inventing a ship's crew in his mind to talk with, but he had fought against it, fearing that he would become lost in his own madness.

Then he had met Baxter at the lowest point in Baxter's life. He had been so incredibly happy to have a living entity to interact with again. He had devoted his all to trying to help Baxter, even if his attempts had largely been misguided. But according to Baxter, he had managed to help him keep hold of some threads of humanity. Without him, Baxter had crumbled.

And Barney. . . . The things Barney had said to him earlier that evening . . . the knowledge that he truly had helped Barney for the better. . . . That moved him as few things could.

He looked over as Barney started to doze, then attempted to shake himself awake. "Barney, don't fight it," he said. "You said yourself that it's been a long day. Go to sleep. Everything's peaceful now."

Barney nodded. "Maybe I will," he slurred. "If I can make myself get up. . . ."

"It's alright to rest here," Vincent said.

Barney relaxed. He turned, slouching against Vincent's shoulder before slumping down with his head on Vincent's lap. Vincent drew an arm around him.

Baxter smiled. "He looks so peaceful."

"Of course, he'll probably deny this up and down when he's aware enough to think about it," Vincent mused.

"Maybe," Baxter said. "He hates to look vulnerable. But he felt completely safe here and now or he wouldn't have allowed himself to do it." He started to get off the couch, moving as carefully as possible so as not to disturb Barney.

"You're staying again tonight, aren't you, old pal?" Vincent asked.

"It's so late now that I might as well," Baxter said. "I like it."

"So do I. So does Barney." Vincent looked at him. "This is right."

"We'll see." Baxter stood. "Goodnight, Brother. Both my brothers."

"Goodnight," Vincent said in awe.

 _Brothers. . . ._

He looked down at Barney, sound asleep at his side, and up at Baxter, slipping into the kitchen for a drink of water.

Then he gazed off into the distance and marveled.


End file.
